


to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Femslash, Background Relationships, Dark Clary Fray, Dysfunctional Family, Edom (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Gore, Season/Series 03, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 20:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Jonathan rises from the pool of blood, tacky grip only tightening on Clary’s wrist.“Welcome to Edom dear sister.”





	to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you

**Author's Note:**

> this was a 3A reaction fic that i forgot about, so it recently got finished- edom's worldbuilding doesn't fit with 3b ¯\\_ (ツ)_/¯
> 
> title from hozier's to be alone

Jonathan rises from the pool of blood, tacky grip only tightening on Clary’s wrist.   
  
She should kill herself. She has an obligation to, knows what hell her brother can wreck. She’s been ready to die before, or at least she thought she was. Perhaps it was a lie to feel better about breathing, perhaps-  
  
Cold demonic eyes meet hers, and his fingers brush against the cuts Lilith made.   
  
He smiles, “You changed your mind about me, sister.”   
  
“Your mother.”   
  
His hand falls and he looks around, frowning where Lilith burned.   
  
“I see.”   
  
Clary takes a deep breath, “Aren’t you mad? I killed her. The one person who loved you, the one who put so much into your worthless resurrection-”  
  
She expects a dozen reactions, is braced for the worst- the low laughter takes her by surprise.   
  
“I won’t kill us so easily little sister, in fact…”   
  
Jonathan waves, all clumps of blood coming off his skin at once, a massive orb that turns her stomach. He’s taken the form of Sebastian again, wearing a loose robe. He throws the blood to the ground, and rather than splash, a perfect circle of deep maroon, tinted black is created. It raises every hair on her body, every instinct screaming not to go near the circle.   
  
“Let’s go see Mother.”   
  
Clary kicks and shoves and screams, but without her stele she can’t beat him, and she looks for the familiar silver twinkle. It’s beside the ledge, if she can break for it then-   
  
Her body is encased in icy coldness, a freezing burn that turns the world white.   
  
Her vision comes back with a wave of dry heat, and Jonathan is grinning, every tooth on display.   
  
“Welcome to Edom dear sister.”   
  
The skies and ground are a deep orange, dragons circling above. It’s so much bigger than she would have imagined, tiny buildings in the distance.  
  
“They burned my skin for years before they were satisfied, I wonder how much hellfire they’ll have for you.”   
  
Clary’s fists clench, “And you wanted to come back here?”   
  
Jonathan chuckles, “After the first few layers of skin, you begin to enjoy it.”   
  
Her nose scrunches up, and he laughs harder.   
  
“You’ll see.”   
  
And here she thought she’d finished evading the prospect of burning alive. “Great.”   
  
A dragon roars and lands beside them, Clary automatically going for weapons she doesn’t have. The unfortunately recognizable creature transforms into Lilith, rushing up to Jonathan.   
  
“My boy, why are you here so soon?” She asks, clearly checking him over for injuries.   
  
“Clarissa was trying to kill us, here we won’t have that problem.”   
  
She’s about to spit back that she can find a way in any realm but… this is a demonic place, it isn’t like Jonathan can harm anyone good. (A cynical voice whispers that _see_ she doesn’t want to die, she never did, Morgensterns survive.)  
  
Lilith strokes his cheek, “Oh my foolish beautiful boy, there’s no return now. The resurrection requires you two to remain in the same world always.”  
  
Clary swallows, doesn’t need Lilith to voice the other half of the sentence. It doesn’t make sense for one without demon blood to be able to leave hell alive. It’s surprising enough that she got here in one piece.   
  
“What is there on earth when you and Clary are here, my family.”   
  
She smiles too wide, “Come, the palace has been redecorated, it feels like a new building.”   
  
“I hope it isn’t like your ‘palace’ on earth,” Clary can’t help but snark.   
  
Lilith slaps her, the loud crack hitting her before the pain can process. “Keep it up little angelblood, and you’ll be lost in a mortal prison forever.”   
  
“W-what?” Clary sputters, can't remember anything like that being referenced in the books they studied.  
  
She smiles, “Where do you think all the bad people go? Sometimes we bring one out to play with, but the cruelest torture is nothingness. No consciousness, no memory, no being.”   
  
Jonathan rolls his eyes, walking towards the city. “C’mon, you’ve scared the newest princess enough. Tell me about the changes in Edom.”   
  
Her eyes bug out at the title, and it must be a joke, she can’t be-   
  
Lilith laughs, condescendingly pats her shoulder, “Don’t worry, here you have to prove yourself before a title has any weight.”   
  
“It’s only a technicality, one that everyone will ignore,” Jonathan adds, bitter. For a moment Clary almost pities him, a boy all alone in hell having his skin burned off for a title he’ll never truly hold. And then she remembers what that boy became, wishing again for her stele or daggers.  
  
Lilith and Jonathan speak of demons she doesn’t know for the walk to the city, and Clary doesn’t particularly care about threats to the throne or the influx of souls from Canada. She takes in Edom instead.   
  
The light hasn’t changed at all since they got here, and she doesn’t see a source either, the skies opaque. There are a handful of houses in this empty desert, all seemingly miles apart. They are approaching the city far too fast for where they started from, and she wonders if it’s a trick of physics or an illusion or something else entirely.   
  
The city is unfortunately similar to what she would have expected- all tall gloomy dark spires, unnecessary spikes and twists. Straight out of a nightmare, chills sliding down her back.   
  
.  
  
“Asmodeus is plotting against me,” Lilith says, frowning and pressing her fingertips together. Over the elongated dinner table it feels like an odd mishmash of a disappointing company report and a parent right before they ground their child for months.   
  
“Shall I capture him mother?” Jonathan asks.  
  
Lilith smiles, patting his hand. “My sweet boy, no he is far too strong for that to end well this century. Not after what that marked brat did.”   
  
Clary shivers despite the ever present heat, her and Jonathan won’t be around then. They can’t, that’d be… Lilith is just fucking with her. She’s mortal and therefore the demon spawn is too.   
  
Jonathan pouts, “At the very least I could destroy that petty tent he loves so much.”   
  
Lilith laughs, “No, we must be more careful. We want to win Edom forever.”   
  
Her nails click against the steel goblet as she thinks, sudden silence when she stops and turns to Clary. “You’re friends with Asmodeus’s son.”   
  
“Yeah but-”  
  
“Tell me everything there is to know about him.”   
  
“I would never,” Clary spits out, and Lilith giggles.   
  
“Oh little Morgenstern, you’re right, this evening needs a spot of torture.”   
  
.  
  
Clary lasts, and lasts, and lasts- until she doesn’t.   
  
There’s no marking time in Edom, especially not in the crude dungeon. While Jonathan had taunted her with the idea of being lost to nothingness, they want in her head. Clary isn’t sure what’s true anymore, surely Lilith could break her mind open if she really wanted to- it feels more like theater.   
  
Lilith feeds her bits of poisoned information each time she visits, the venom dripping from her tongue far more effective than the fire lapping at her heels. She knows it too, the damned demon.   
  
_The only way to leave here angelblood is to forsake yourself, to become demonic. Don’t you want to see your friends again?_  
  
_Oh Clarissa Morningstar-_  
_ That’s not my name._  
_ Isn’t it?_  
  
_ Your old lovers, Jace and Simon, they’re together, happy now. It really is a beautiful thing when two souls are clearly meant to be._  
_ (Clary tells herself she’s happy to hear this, that they’re alive and well. She hasn’t gotten any better at lying to herself.)_  
  
_ Jonathan misses you. Don’t you want to get better for your brother? This is all a favor for him you know, your value is so very… limited._  
  
_ Your father is down here. Would you like to kill him again?_  
_ (Clary can’t answer, knows Lilith will hear a lie.)_  
  
_ You’re almost ready._  
_ I haven’t told you anything-_  
_ Lilith laughs, the sound echoing around her cell. Oh, you foolish child, it was never about the information._  
  
_ Welcome home Clarissa._  
  
Clary should feel different.   
  
She’s been set free, declared dark and twisted enough to fit in with the happy family. (That she doesn’t feel like a different person brings all the old insecurities back, she is Valentine’s daughter. This was always in her blood.)  
  
Sitting at the dinner table, Jonathan across from her, Lilith at the head, and Asmodeus of all people at her left side. The other demons she doesn’t recognize, tries not to stare at the unfamiliar faces and horns. She hates how unarmed she feels, clutching the cutlery in a white knuckled grip that matches the polished bones. Everything about Edom is macabre, she hates how she doesn't blink at the gory details. (Human wax candles, a fountain of blood, embroidered skin in the upholstery- what's the point in turning up her nose, what's the point of any of this?)  
  
Lilith toasts to a new united rule of Edom, and Clary wonders what her angle is, why she’s bothering with Asmodeus at all. Her stomach twists unpleasantly- those shouldn’t be her thoughts. She wishes, fuck does she wish that she felt different.  
  
.  
  
Jonathan tells her that it’s her birthday, presents her with a blade and her father.   
  
He weeps, begs, screams, and curses, and Clary kills him again. She cuts out his tongue first, and takes her time with the rest. It’s curious that he can bleed at all as a dead man, or as a spirit, or whatever he is. Clary briefly entertains the notion that this isn’t her father at all, just an unfortunate soul taking on his look. Clary doesn’t care, slices him open over and over, until all of his blood has drained out.  
  
It isn’t until she’s in her room that Clary realizes she held a dagger and didn’t once think of escape.   
  
(Where would she even go? Demons don’t belong on earth.)  
  
.  
  
Edom becomes boring.   
  
There’s torturing souls, which Clary only indulges in when Valentine is involved. There’s Jonathan endlessly trying to get in more sibling bonding, only there isn’t much to actually _do_. There’s Lilith and Asmodeus’s weekly parties, but Clary finds those more awkward than anything else.   
  
Demons don’t care much for propriety, and seen one decadent torture-orgy-party, you’ve seen them all. Lilith is quite the exhibitionist, and Clary avoids looking anywhere near the throne area. It’ll be Lilith and Asmodeus fucking again, she can smell the magic crackling around them, the thick ozone stench.   
  
Clary is doing such a great job quaffing down tonight’s sangria and ignoring half the room that she doesn’t notice a familiar face approach.   
  
“Red, fancy meeting you here. Hell suits you.”   
  
She drops her glass, and Camille catches it with a sharp grin. Camille looks the same as before, stunning in a deep scarlet dress edging on black, a cross shaped hole exposing her cleavage and looking far too enticing.   
  
“How-how are you here?” Clary reaches out without thinking, fingers brushing against her shoulder. “You’re alive.”   
  
She raises an unimpressed eyebrow, “Downworlder remember? Or did they give you a lobotomy as a homecoming gift? Hard to tell really.”   
  
She bristles, “What do you want?”  
  
Camille sets her drink down, extends a hand. “Why a dance of course.”   
  
“You did not travel to Edom for a dance.”   
  
Camille shrugs, “I am hoping for at least two.”   
  
Clary can’t help a smile, and really, there’s no reason she shouldn’t dance with the vampire. She pushes away memories of what Camille did, it isn’t like Clary herself has been a saint. Not like she ever was. There’s a reason they’re both here. And Camille, Camille is absolutely gorgeous.  
  
(Being in Edom should be lonely, but every touch of Camille’s lips is sweet blasphemy.)


End file.
